and Cade hadn’t bothered her the way it had Grandpa Mel. Or maybe it was just that Reno’s grandfather had deemed no man good enough for his granddaughter, least of all Cade, the deputy sheriff who had tucked tail and run after Sonny’s violent death.
“You should be careful,” Wynonna said now, and for a minute Reno thought she meant in regards to Cade. “Those poachers mean business. I didn’t say anything earlier because it would’ve been no use trying to stop you. I understand what the mustangs mean to you, but I also understand what they mean to the poachers. Money. And greed makes men do rash, crazy things.”
“I know.” Reno nodded. Riding out alone at night wasn’t the smartest thing she’d ever done. And shooting out the ATV headlights? Plain stupid. At the time she’d been too angry to care if she ended up hitting the poachers, who’d had no qualms about shooting at her. Really, really stupid. She could’ve killed someone. Her passion for the horses had overridden everything else.
Reno sighed. “I’m tired. I’m going to bed.”
“Aren’t you going to call Austin and tell him what you saw?”
“It’s late, and the poachers are gone for now. I’ll call him tomorrow.”
“Okay,” Wynonna said, resigned. “Then I will see you in the morning.”
“Good night.” Reno turned toward the hall.
“Reno?”
She looked back over her shoulder.
“Don’t lose sleep over Cade.”
“Not to worry,” she replied. “I’ve got a dream catcher hanging over my bed.”
She left hearing Wynonna’s soft chuckle, and wondering if the webs of the dream catcher would be strong enough to trap the nightmare of Cade Lantana being back in her life.
CHAPTER TWO
CADE SHOOK OFF the remnants of a nightmare he hadn’t had in quite some time. Chalk it up to coming home to Eagle’s Nest. Throwing back the covers, he stood, taking in the familiar room.
Home. In Colorado.
It felt strange yet comforting to be on the Diamond L after nine years of living on the outskirts of New Meadows, Idaho. He hadn’t expected to feel comforted, plagued as he still was by the events that had led to his departure. He only wished he’d come here under more pleasant circumstances. It killed him to see his father so sick.
After a quick shower, Cade dressed and yanked on his boots—still damp from last night’s downpour—and clomped down the stairs. The aroma of coffee and hot, buttered pancakes wafted from the kitchen, drawing him in. His father sat at the table, dressed in his usual Western shirt, jeans and cowboy boots. But the light was gone from his blue eyes. His tan had faded, and he looked as ill as he was. The oxygen tube clipped to his nostrils called attention to his labored breathing.
Cade forced a smile. “Morning, Dad. Mom.”
Estelle stood on tiptoe to kiss his cheek. Her short, silver-blond hair smelled like strawberries. “It sure is good to see you in my kitchen, son. Sit down, I’ve got pancakes ready.”
She scowled and pointed a finger at her husband, who’d pulled a cigarette from his shirt pocket and stuck it between his lips. “Light that, Matthew Lantana, and I’ll kick your butt—if your oxygen tank doesn’t blow you to kingdom come first!”
“Don’t get your britches in a knot, woman.” Clutching the unfiltered cigarette between two fingers, Matt waved it in the air. “I just wanna suck on the damn thing. Is that all right with you?” He glared at her. “Wasn’t gonna light it.”
Estelle gave him a dark look. “You’re playing with fire either way,” she said. “Just tempting and tormenting yourself, is all you’re doing.” She slammed down a plate with a single pancake in front of him. Refilled his cup. “You shouldn’t even have those cancer sticks in the house.”
“Can we please not argue on my first morning here?” Cade interjected. “Dad, put the cigarette away.”
“Fine.” Matthew stuck it back in his shirt pocket. “A man can’t do a blasted thing in his own home,” he grumbled.
“You can die in your own home, that’s what you can do, if you don’t stop it!” Estelle blinked, tears rimming her red eyes. She dropped into a chair across from her husband and dug viciously into her own stack of pancakes with the side of her fork.
Purposely and with relish, Matthew put a huge dollop of butter on his single flapjack, then poured enough syrup over it to drown a mule. He narrowed his eyes at Estelle as if daring her to object.
Cade sighed. “Do you feel like taking a ride with me today, Dad?”
“I can’t manage horseback anymore—you know that.” Without looking at him, Matt shoved a forkful of dripping pancake into his mouth. Though he owned a portable oxygen tank small enough to fit behind a saddle, the limited air supply kept him from riding, since anything less than two hours in the saddle was, in his mind, a waste of time. Not to mention that pride wouldn’t allow him to do something with difficulty that had once been second nature.
“I meant a ride in the truck,” Cade said. “I’m driving out to Wild Horse Ranch to see what those poachers might’ve left behind.”
Matt snapped to attention. “So, they were there last night?”
Cade nodded. “Bold as you please, trying to run the herd into a canyon.”
“That disgusts me to no end,” Estelle fumed. “Can’t the sheriff get them for trespassing on Reno’s ranch, at least?”
“Yep, but trespassing charges aren’t going to solve the problem. The Bureau of Land Management needs to bust them for poaching and theft of government property. But what I hear from Sam Grainger, the agents have been busy out by De Beque, where this same thing’s been happening.”
“Think it’s wise to be poking around on Reno Blackwell’s place?” Matt asked. He’d been well aware of Cade’s feelings for Reno, and the complicated decision he’d made in leaving Colorado.
Cade shrugged. “Reckon I owe her all the help I can give.”
“You’re an agent in Idaho, not here,” his mother reminded him. “I hate to see you hanging around Reno again.” She didn’t have to finish what he knew she was thinking. That by leaving, he’d hurt Reno, a teenage girl who’d looked up to him.
But the older Reno had got, the more Cade’s interests had changed from brotherly to something more, especially once she turned eighteen. Yet after what her stepfather had done, not to mention what Sonny had forced Cade to do, there was nowhere for those feelings to go. Twenty-five-year-old men weren’t supposed to be attracted to eighteen-year-old girls.
“I’m not hanging around with her, Mom. I’m just doing what needs to be done.”
“I suppose,” Estelle said, “but there’s no sense in you dragging your father out in the middle of nowhere.”
“For crying out loud!” Matt slammed his cup down, sloshing coffee onto the gingham tablecloth. “Why don’t you just go ahead and put me in a pine box and bury me?”
“Matthew, calm down.”
“Don’t tell me to calm down,” he wheezed. Suddenly, a coughing fit seized him, and Cade half rose from his chair, feeling responsible.
“You okay, Dad?” he asked, laying a hand on his arm.
“Oh, Matt.” Estelle scooted her own chair away from the table and wrapped an arm around his shoulders. “Relax. Just breathe easy.”
“Br—breathe easy,” Matt wheezed. “Easy for you…to say.” His color had gone from red to ashen, then slowly returned to normal as he leaned back in his chair and sucked in oxygen.